Disappointments
by WindStar
Summary: Officially Complete Robert Chase has to see a Psychologist once a year to stay at PPTH. She makes him tell her his story...and across the ocean his father is telling his own. Childhood is a wonderful, terrible thing, no? the episode Cursed is mentioned
1. Chapter 1

**Disapointments **

It was dark and stuffy in this room. The walls were wainscoted, the floor was wood, and the ceiling was a deep blue. The furniture wasn't much better either; there was a desk over on the back wall, two large leather couches, four side tables (one for each respective side of the couch), and stand up lights that barely did anything to make the place seem cheery. It was down right depressing.

So as the blonde sat there, his mind surprisingly blank, the only thing he thought about was how he didn't want to be here. It was required of him in order to continue working at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. He needed to visit a psychologist once a year to make sure he wasn't crazy. This was his first meeting…he'd been working for the hospital for two months now. He needed to pass this. He shifted tirelessly as he thought about all the pros and cons of being here. On one hand he knew that wherever he applied he'd need to visit a psychologist first, on the other all he wanted to do was run far away.

The door opened and he stood up to be polite. The woman there was in her late forties or early fifties. Her hair was already turning grey and it was cascading down her back. She wore an ugly brown suit with a silk scarf that clashed terribly with it. She had black glasses and big earrings. For all of her faults, the young doctor took that in stride. It may be easier to pass this exam if she seemed to care not a wit about her appearance. Maybe that said something about her?

"Robert Chase?" She read his name off the file. He held out a hand in greeting and she took it.

"Yes, ma'am." He sat back down and his eyes wandered around the room. "This is a nice office, ma'am." Her eyes looked over the rims of her glasses at him, and she frowned somewhat.

"Thank you." They sat there in silence for a while, and Chase shifted nervously every few minutes. After a time it became increasingly clear that she was much more interested in reading his file then actually talking to him. He wondered if he should have brought a book, and looked on the side tables to see if there were any magazines. There weren't. He shifted awkwardly again and began having doubts about being here. Thoughts of "this is a mistake, this is a _big _mistake" echoed through his head. Eventually it was too big to hold in and so he spoke.

"Ma'am, is there anything that I need to-" 

"Ten minutes and forty five seconds." She said suddenly. He did a double take and stared at her in confusion.

"I'm sorry?"

"Ten minutes and forty five seconds." She looked at him as though he'd understand her this time. He still stared blankly at her, and the woman sighed and placed the file down on one of the side tables. "It took you the aforementioned amount of time to speak." Chase frowned at her in confusion. He still didn't understand what that had to do with anything. "You don't want to be here do you?"

"I'm sorry ma'am, I don't understand." He replied as he shifted uncertainly in his chair.

"You want to get this over with as soon as possible, but you've waited nearly eleven minutes to start the process. That means, perhaps, three things, the first of which is that you don't like talking to people about yourself. You want others to do the talking so you'll stay quiet until you need to speak. It means you're shy by nature. Next is that you're uncomfortable in silence and feel that you need to break it if it extends past your level of comfort. Third is that you're reliant on others to make the first move. You see how _they_ react and then you respond. Was someone close to you an alcoholic?"

"What? No!" Chase's head was spinning from her surprisingly accurate description. He was still trying to process it when she started speaking again. It was making his head hurt.

"You're lying." She stood up and walked towards her desk. The blonde's eyes followed her and watched her make a cup of coffee. "I've read your file, your mother died of liver cancer didn't she? She was ineligible to go on a transplant list because she was an alcoholic."

"That's not in my file." Chase hissed angrily. He'd read his file, it said that his mother died of Hepatocellular carcinoma. It never said she wasn't eligible for a transplant list. 

"It's not, but it's what happened." The woman sat back down and Chase felt his fury raise.

"You don't know a thing about what happened back then." He spat out his anger reaching its maximum. She didn't seem bothered by that at all.

"So tell me."

"It's irrelevant."

"How can it be irrelevant if you don't know what relevant is?" She was playing games with him, and Chase wanted it to stop. He wanted her to sign the damn form saying that he could work, and he wanted her to shut up about his personal life. "It says in your file that you had surgery to remove part of your liver to give to your mother. That means that she wasn't eligible for a transplant donor. From your attitude I've guessed that it's because she was an alcoholic."

"Maybe I just wanted it to go faster." He snapped. "We had the same blood type, is it a crime to give your mother part of your liver if she's _dying_?"

"No, but that's not what happened." He looked away from her and felt his last defenses fall down. He always tried to avoid the topic of his past, when that failed he got angry, and when that still failed, he felt his life shatter and he would beg for them to leave him alone.

"I don't want to talk about this."

"That's too bad; you're in here until I declare you sane enough to practice medicine. So start talking." He looked up at her with tear filled eyes; this was the last part of the equation. Getting upset.

_Ten years ago _

The bus was late getting home. There was a traffic jam on the Nepean Highway was three hours of waiting. Apparently some drunk driver drove in the wrong lane and had a head on collision with a car, then those cars were hit – it continued on to be a ten car pile up. He had taken the time to do his homework on the bus; he knew he wouldn't have time when he came home.

When he finally stepped off of the vehicle and began the long walk up his street to his apartment, he was exhausted. It was twelve o'clock, far too late for doing anything productive now. He opened the front door and called out that he was home. Chase removed his jacket and hung it up on the hooks by the threshold. He kicked off his shoes and started to walk down the front hallway.

"Mom? Are you there?" He clicked on the lights in the living room, and sighed. There was a broken bottle of gin shattered on the floor. His mother was lying on the sofa with her head buried under a blanket. "Mom?" He carefully maneuvered himself around the broken glass, and knelt beside the couch. "Mom are you okay?" He reached out and gently shook her shoulder. She didn't move. "Mom?" He pulled the blanket from over her, and rolled her onto her back so she could look at him.

She was deathly pale, and her eyes were clenched tight. She moaned something, but Chase couldn't make it out. His heart was fluttering in his chest as he looked at her terrified. He slapped her cheek lightly, and she opened her eyes and looked at him. They were jaundice and he spent enough time with his father over the years to know what that meant. He stumbled up, promising her that she'd be okay. He needed to find the phone. Where was the damn phone? A hand grabbed his wrist just before he went searching and he looked down.

"I'm sorry baby." She said weakly, but he wasn't going to listen to her goodbyes.

"I'll be right back, I promise." He rushed to the door and pulled out his cell phone, it was faster then looking for the landline.

He managed to call an ambulance, and they'd gotten her stable after five hours. In that time he sat in the waiting room praying with all of his might that his mother would be alright. The only time that he stopped was when he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed his father's number. He hadn't realized he was crying until his father picked up the phone. He asked who was calling, and all the youngest Chase could do was sob. Eventually he managed to choke out "dad."

"Robert?" The man asked. "What are you doing calling this late?" He wasn't mad parse, he was never _mad _when his son called. He was always…indifferent somehow. As though he was simply indulging the boy.

"Mom…" he chocked out, his body was shivering and he remembered the torrential raining that had started after he'd called for help. He'd sat outside for the longest time trying to find a way to the hospital after the ambulance left. They wouldn't let him go with them. He eventually took his bike and rode there. He'd fallen twice because of the rain, and he knew his arm was bleeding under his clothes, but he couldn't bring himself to draw attention to it. "Hospital…" He felt himself slapping his eyes to try to get rid of the tears and make himself more understandable.

"Your mother's in the hospital?" It wasn't worry in his voice; it was just a simple fact. The teen coughed and nodded to no one.

"Please…dad…can you come? I…I need you dad….here, with me…I'm scared…please?" He never asked his father this. It was just not done. The man was a well respected doctor; you don't call him up and ask him to sit in the waiting room for you. You call him up and ask him to go do what he did best – figure out what's wrong. The younger Chase had become well aware of that fact over the years, but here he was, begging his father. There was silence on the other end, and the teen wondered what was going through his father's head.

"I'll try." Then he hung up, and the teen sat in the waiting room for another hour shivering and crying to himself.

His mother's doctor, Henry Dickenson, sat down with him in the waiting room after a while, and started discussing with him what they'd found. He was shaking so bad that he worried the doctor would believe he was having a seizure. He couldn't think right now, his hands were on his forehead and his elbows were on his knees. Only part of what the doctor was saying to him made any sense.

Cancer…needed liver….transplant committee….draw blood…match…relative…dad?

"Is my dad here?" He suddenly asked, cutting the man off. He looked up with big blue eyes and the doctor felt himself be stabbed by them. He tried to continue on as if the teen hadn't said anything, but the boy asked again. "Is my dad here?"

The answer was no, Rowan hadn't come. When the transplant committee turned his mother down for a donor, Rowan hadn't come. He went to get tested and his father still wasn't there. They told him he was a match and he went to talk to his mother about donating part of his liver. She said she was proud of him, and signed the consent forms…but his father wasn't there to tell her that she was out of her mind. That he could die on the table to save a drunkard.

He called his father again before they prepped him for surgery. He got voice mail, and he begged his father to come to the hospital. He needed to see him, be assured he was doing something right. He needed someone other then his mother there guiding him through what was happening. Rowan never came.

He was prepped for surgery, he went into the operating room, and the surgery commenced. It only took two hours for something to go wrong. One of the intern surgeons who was doing their first transplant, nicked an artery when they cut in. His heart stopped not to long afterwards. It took six minutes to bring him back. They took care of the bleed, but they couldn't do the surgery. He'd lost too much blood.

He slipped into a light coma, coming out of it three weeks later. His mother had died while he was out. She hadn't been able to get a donor from anyone else. Chase spent another week in the hospital and then he was released. His mother's lawyers and his aunt had done the funeral while he was still in the coma. His father hadn't come once to see if he was alright.

_End Flashback _

"Do you think it's your fault that your mother died?" The woman asked him as she wrote down what he said in her note book.

"No, it was the intern's fault." He replied.

"Did you sue them?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It wasn't their fault that my mother died. It was their fault I was in a coma, but it wasn't their fault she died. She was sick, and she needed a transplant, but she didn't qualify for a registered liver. I didn't sue because it was a matter of circumstance…that's all…"

"Were you mad at your father for not coming when you asked him to? Or visiting while you were sick?" Chase looked at her for a long time, his mind trying to remember exactly what his emotion was. Then he remembered exactly how it felt. It felt like nothing.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I wasn't his patient, he didn't have to worry about me." It was a sad thing to say, and Chase hadn't realized quite how sad until he noticed the look in her eyes as he spoke. He just sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I think it was then that I realized that I shouldn't expect anything of him. If I don't hope for him to be there or expect him to come, he can't disappoint me. He can't make me sad or mad."

"So you didn't live with your father after your mother died?"

"I did for about four or five months. I went to college after that and never lived with him again."

_Hmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmdhmd _

He didn't think he needed to be here. He was required to of course, but only one session. After finding out you're going to die, the hospital makes you talk to a psychologist . It was a bad policy in his mind. Or at least it was a bad policy now that he had to do it. The room was too bright for his taste. He liked it better when there was nice wainscoted walls and 15th century furniture. It gave the rooms he worked in a nice appeal to them.

There was a young doctor sitting in front of him, she was wearing a classy outfit that clearly showed her knowledge for the fashion industry. He felt slightly better at that, because it meant that he'd be able to weedle his way into her mind and just sign the papers saying that he was fine.

She was reading his files and he had to say that annoyed him. Couldn't she just talk directly to him instead of reading the damn paperwork? He looked at his watch, this meeting started five minutes ago.

"Excuse me, but may we begin?" She looked up at him and smiled.

"You're impatient." She stated. "It's rather rude…" She looked back at the file. "Rowan Chase." She closed it and placed it on the table between them. "So, tell me about your son." He scowled at her but she didn't seem phased by it.

"That's hardly relevant." He snapped.

"I think it's very relevant. You're here because the hospital wants to make sure you're alright. Your son affects you as part of your life, so tell me about him."

"I haven't seen him in five years, and I haven't talked to him in ten."

"What'd you talk about?" She pulled out a notebook and started writing, and he took that as his cue to start speaking again.

"He was leaving to go to college, and we were arguing about his mother." Rowan sighed and started recollecting what had happened.

_Flashback _

Christina was smiling happily at him across the table. They'd been married for three years now, and had a beautiful baby girl together. Christina had come into the marriage with an 18 year old daughter, but she was sentenced to college for the time being. After an incident that occurred four months ago, she was no longer allowed in the house until further notice.

Also sitting at the table though, was Christina's step son; Robert. He barely spoke to anyone and was picking at his breakfast with distaste. He didn't like eating so early in the morning; it was required though. Christina had tried to make up with Robert after the fiasco with her eldest daughter, Ava. He'd only returned that gesture by staying blissfully silent and unresponsive to the comes and goings of their days.

Rowan was sick of it though. He never spent much time with his son after the divorce. He regretted that – really. However it was completely rude and unethical to be moping for _months _after his mother's death, especially if he was going to college in another few weeks. Robert had been accepted into the University of Sydney in their Social Work program. Behind his son's back though, Rowan had phoned the school and requested that his major be changed to Medicine. Some arguing and a hefty donation later was all it took to change the major. He just had to tell Robert about it.

"I called Sydney; they've got a rather nice dorm chosen for you." He started. His son just nodded and moved to take a sip of his juice. "I also had your major changed to Medicine." Robert gasped in his drink and immediately started choking as his lungs filled with apple juice. He coughed miserably into his hands for at least five minutes and Christina stood up eventually to rub his back soothingly. Finally he looked up and met his father's eyes.

"Why?" His original goal had been to be a priest, but after his mother's death he had completely lost faith in God. He applied to be a social worker, and was accepted. He wanted to help children who'd come from similar situations as him. He didn't want to be a doctor.

"Social Work is a soft job; you'd do better as a doctor." Rowan took a bite of his eggs and watched as his wife sat down. She was giving him a disapproving look.

"I don't want to be a doctor!" Robert all but shouted, he was angry and Rowan supposed he had a right to be.

"This is not a discussion Robert." The man hissed.

"I'll drop out of Sydney; I'll apply somewhere else – without a medical school attached to it!" Rowan slammed his silverware down and the baby started screaming in her high-chair. Christina took her out of the room to calm her down as the two started yelling at each other more.

The argument lasted nearly twenty minutes, and ended with him running out the door. He'd never come back home. He went to Sydney Medical, and he'd become a doctor. Rowan doubted it was because he had convinced him that being a doctor would be better then being a Social Worker, but more on the fact that he had the power to demolish Robert's mother's home and spend her money.

In Annabel, his former wife's, will she had left everything to Robert. Everything meaning a small but comfortable home on a farm and a nice nest of money incase the teen needed it. It had been her home growing up, and she hadn't gone back there in years. Legally it was Roberts, but until he became an adult by law, Rowan had the power to do with it as he pleased.

Robert finished medschool because he was already half way through it by the time the threat was null and void. It was pointless to stop now. He hadn't come home once in all the time he was at Sydney. He went to his mother's farm, cleaned up the place, and stayed there when he couldn't stay at the dorm.

The last Rowan saw of Robert was at his graduation. He never told his son that he was going, but he went anyway. Robert had graduated at the top of his class, and completely debt free. He wanted to go over and tell him how proud he was of his son, but instead he couldn't make out any words.

He listened to him talk to his friends about his plans for the future. He was going to do his Residency in America, and he hoped to do his Fellowship with some Doctor House or other.

When Rowan went home that night he looked up this _Doctor House _and found him. He picked up the phone and called the man. The doctor was rude and abrasive and didn't seem interested at all in what Rowan was saying. It sounded as though the Doctor would crush Robert's already fragile spirit, and so after a long talk with the man, Rowan angrily told him that he wanted him to deny his son the job when he asked.

Years later, when Robert was ready for his fellowship, he called House again only to find that the man had ignored him. He'd hired him. Apparently his son, the intensivist, was still working for the man.

_End Flashback _

"Why did you do all of this behind Robert's back? Instead of talking to him about it?" The woman asked as she took a sip of her coffee. Rowan looked at her for a long moment and then sighed. He didn't know how exactly to put it into words. He tried to remember what was running through his head all those years ago when he manipulated his son's life.

"I never understood how to talk to him."

"What do you mean?"

"Robert was my first child. When he was just born I never let him go, I carried him around the hospital introducing him to all of my coworkers. Then when Annabel took him home, she took care of him while I was at work. She dressed him and fed him. I'd come home after a late night at the hospital and he'd already be asleep. I wasn't there when he first started talking, or walking, or reading. I missed out on all of that. Whenever he was sick I knew exactly what to do, I knew what he had and how to treat it. But it was his mother who held him when he cried and hugged him when he was ill. I think the first time I actually hugged him after his first few months, was when he was sixteen."

"What was the occasion?"

"His mother was in the hospital, he called me in the middle of the night. He was terrified and was crying. It'd been years since our divorce and I had only spent time with him maybe four or five times a year after we were separated. I didn't know what to do. He asked me to come to the hospital. He told me he needed me there, that he was scared. I told him I'd try to get there."

"So you went, and you hugged him?" Rowan looked up sadly.

"No. I didn't go. I was half way out the door when I remembered something about a patient. I spent the rest of the night in my office reading articles and working. He called me two more times after that. I didn't pick up either of them. I forgot about him. I forgot about him, and remembered a _patient._ When I went into work the next day, one of my coworkers came up to me and started yelling at me. He told me that Robert had called me three times the night before trying to contact me. His mother had Hepatocellular carcinoma, liver cancer. They tested Robert. He had the same blood type as his mother, and she signed a consent form. He went in to surgery and they messed up. They'd cut an artery. It took them six minutes to bring him back. That's long enough to cause brain damage…He fell into a coma. A few days later his mother died because they couldn't do the surgery after that."

The woman didn't say anything as Rowan placed his hands on his face. She let him collect himself for a few moments before she spoke.

"Do you feel as though Annabel's death was your fault? That Robert going into a coma was your fault?"

"Yes. I had the same blood type as her. If I had picked up my phone, if I had remembered my son…I could have donated my liver to her. I could have saved him from having to deal with that, and kept his mother's death off of his conscience. Her doctor – Henry Dickenson – yelled at me for not coming in. I just walked to my office and sat down and started working some more. I saved the patient I remembered instead of my son, and when that was done I had nothing else to do. So I went to Robert's room. I didn't bother with a guest list, and no one saw me there, but I sat in his room for the better part of three days. During that time I sat on his bed…and I picked him up. I just held him for at least an hour. After that day I left and never visited again."

"What did it feel like when you held him?"

"He was so…small." Rowan breathed the last word as he thought about that time. "I remembered him when he was wrestling with his friends in the yard before the divorce. He seemed so much bigger then when he was ten, then he did at sixteen. He moved so much and was so energetic that when he was in my arms that day…when he was just limp in my arms…he seemed so small and fragile."

"Do you love your son?" Rowan looked at her for the longest time. He didn't know what to say. After everything he'd done to his baby as Robert grew up, did that still count as love? He sat there for the longest time thinking about it. Finally he replied.

"Yes, but I'm not going to tell him about my Cancer." He decided that the moment he found out. He would tell his wife, and his daughters, but he wouldn't tell Robert.

"Why not?"

"He cares too much. I don't want him to come home and think that he needs to take care of me. Think that he needs to make everything right. He doesn't need to watch another parent die. No matter how distant."

"You should go and visit him sometime, before you feel too weak to travel."

"Yes…maybe I should."

Windstar: After a very long time, I really liked how this turned out. I've been toying with the idea of making it longer, if you approve then I'll do so. For now it's a one-shot.

Disclaimer: If I owned House don't you think this would have been an episode by now?


	2. Chapter 2

**Verse 2**

Chase was looking out the window waiting for the woman to ask the next question. He had long since given up on resisting what she was asking him. When he looked at the clock he was aggrieved to see that only twenty minutes out of their hour had past. She took a sip of her coffee, and pierced him with a look. He moved and lay down on the padded couch with a sigh.

"So, what happened after you woke up from your coma?"

_Flashback_

His eyes flickered open and he glanced around the room. He tried to sit up, but his head felt too heavy and tired to raise. He groaned and tried again to push himself up. He was saved from the agonizing task though, when the door to his room opened. A nurse walked in looking at her charts, and he quietly asked for help. She looked up surprised and then instantly pressed the call button to bring a doctor in.Ten minutes later Dickenson appeared. He was flustered and clearly in panicked that something had happened. When he saw the teen awake though, he smiled and moved to check on him.

"How are you feeling my boy?" Chase croaked out that he was thirsty. Instantly a glass appeared and he sipped it anxiously.

"How's my mom?" He asked suddenly, his voice slightly stronger. "Did the surgery go okay?" Henry didn't answer. He just stared solemnly at the boy. "Sir? Is my mom okay?" The heart rate monitor was picking up, and to spare the boy any further panicking, Henry spoke.

"There were complications with your surgery. An intern…accidentally nicked one of your arteries. Your heart stopped and after the amount of blood you lost, we couldn't complete the surgery. You've been in a coma for the past few weeks…your mother died thirteen days ago." Chase just stared at the man, his eyes filled with tears and his body constricted. After a moment though the tears still didn't fall. He closed his eyes and blinked them back. His body loosened and he looked at the doctor stoically.

"When is the funeral?" He asked calmly.

"It was about four days ago." Again it appeared as though the teen would break down, but he held it all back. He forced himself to stay still and calm. It wasn't his way to cease functioning in front of others.

"Is my father here?" He asked quietly.

"He's in his office, would you like me to-"

"No." Chase closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "No, let him work. It's what he's best at." He turned and rolled over on his side. Henry left moments later. Robert was alone in his room when he cried. They kept him there for another week and it was then that his father came to see him for the first time. He was signing himself out when Rowan walked up to him. He had made it out the doors and slightly down the street before his father's hand caught his arm

"Robert?" The teen turned and looked at him quietly. He had nothing to say to the man, and he wanted nothing more then for him to leave him alone. He'd go back to his apartment, he'd clean up the mess his mother had made, he'd continue going to school…life would go on. He never needed his father before, why should he need him now? "Robert I want you to come live with me." The shock of the words slapped him hard in his face. Why would his father want him now, after ignoring him when he needed help? "Please…you're Aunt Vivian said she'd take you in if you didn't want to, but she lives in America now. You would have to live away from your friends…" Friends? What friends? The past five years had been devoid of any _friends_. He had to take care of his mother. That wasn't his job, but he had to do it. Because _he _left. He was working six hours every day after school to pay the bills and take care of his mother. He didn't have _time _for friends. "Will you come home with me? I was leaving for the day anyway." Sure, why not.

He thought it all, he hadn't spoken a word. His father led him to a taxi and he got in. He let his father talk and talk and talk, but he didn't say anything. He couldn't. His words had somehow been shattered when his mother had died. Just like his purpose for living. He had spent five years taking care of his mother…she was gone now…what did that mean he had to do? He had no idea what he was _supposed _to do. How did it feel to be a child? How did it feel to have time to play sports and go out with a pretty girl? He had no idea. He had spent his life being the adult…he had spent his life being what his father should have been.

Rowan explained where his room would be when they got to the mansion, it'd be the last room on the second floor to the right. It had already been set up for a visit, and Robert's personal items could be moved in later. The teen shrugged when he was asked what color he wanted the room. His father was making too much of an effort to talk to him. He didn't care about the room. He didn't care about any of this. All he wanted was someplace warm with a roof over his head. The rest didn't matter. It never did. He'd run away for a night before…his father didn't know that. He hid himself in a department store after they locked up. He fell asleep in the changing rooms, and left in the morning. It never mattered what anything looked like. As long as it wasn't wet…it was fine…

They pulled up to the Chase Mansion and Rowan stepped out. He had promised that they'd go back to the apartment sometime to pick up some clothes and pack up the house. If Robert didn't want to go, then Rowan could always send a crew to do it for him. The teen didn't say anything at that, just stared past his father and looked at the door. It was white. There was an outdoor ceiling light that shone down from a small overhead that would keep the rain off of them if it were raining. Rowan was fumbling with his keys, he kept looking at his on as though he was going to make a mad dash down to the front gates and out into oblivion. Finally the door opened and they stepped inside. A woman's voice called out down to the foyer.

"Hello?" Robert watched her appear at the top of the grand staircase that lead into the front room. She was richly dressed in silk with a pearl necklace accent. Her hair was finely displayed and she was clearly comfortable in the rich surroundings. The teen looked at her, and then back at his father, trying to understand who she was. "Rowan you're home!" She made her way down the stairs as she looked at Robert. "Who's this, a little friend?" she teased. Rowan's hand found his shoulder for a brief moment before he made his way to the woman and kissed her fondly. Robert felt his heart stop as he watched it. His father turned and looked back at him with a nervous smile, his arm was around her waist.

"Robert, I'd like you to meet my wife, Christina. Chrissie, this is...my son…Robert." He didn't hear whatever it was that Christina was going to say, he turned and ran out of the house – just as his father had been afraid he would. He decided then that he didn't want to stay there and he made his best effort at getting to the gate as fast as he could. "Robert! Robert!" He could barely hear the old man any more; all he wanted to do was to disappear. Which wasn't as hard as it seems, for as soon as he rounded the first bend in the long drive, a silver Porsche came speeding at him. He jumped up knowing he wouldn't be able to dodge it, and felt his ankle hitting the front and getting thrown into the windshield.

It took a few moments to realize what happened. There was someone screaming and talking very loudly to someone else. He felt someone touching his neck and holding his head. He could hear someone asking him if he was okay. Another person was shaking him; another person was holding him steady. It was a confusing moment and the fact that he just _knew _he had a concussion was only making it worse.

When his vision started to fade back into reality (for all he had seen for a dreadful amount of time was this obnoxious bright light) he made out his father who was holding his neck steady while attempting to shine a penlight in his eyes at the same time. He was failing at both because he could still move his neck and the sun was shining directly at them. A little light compared to a great fiery ball of gas didn't seem to change his dilation at all.

"Robert? Are you alright?" The question was a stupid one. _Are you alright_? He was just hit with a bloody car. Of course he wasn't _alright_. However he indulged the man and nodded slightly, attempting to sit up. "No, wait, there's an ambulance on its way." He just came from the bloody hospital and now he was going _back _to the bloody hospital. At least he didn't pay his insurance; that was his new _daddy's _job. "Can you speak?" The youngest Chase wondered if that was a rhetorical question. If he couldn't speak then yes…if he _wouldn't _speak…then yes? He nodded and moaned out a "mmhmm." His father asked him to say his name, Robert shook his head. The hands were back on his neck. "You don't remember?" The teen growled in frustration and swatted the hands away, the doctor didn't seem to care and held his neck still.

"…mmm." He mumbled trying to sit up again. Someone was still talking loudly and screaming, he groaned as his head protested the loud noises. Rowan hissed for them to be quiet.

"I need you to stay awake; can you keep your eyes open?" It seemed as though running in the middle of the street was the only way to get the man to care. Then again…Rowan had always been the one to take care of him when he was sick. He just wasn't the one who wanted to make sure he alright any other time in his life. A few more injuries would be nice if it got him to notice. Though, you can't trump the coma card and that hadn't got him anywhere.

He went to the hospital again, and found out he had broken his collarbone. He was sitting on his hospital bed after his third MRI and second CT scan. His father couldn't accept the fact that his son was _refusing _to talk. The doctor's assured the man that there was nothing physically wrong with this son, and that Robert just didn't want to talk to anyone. There was a lot of screaming then; he was told what an idiot he was being and how he was being a fool. The teen seemed to just block it out and eventually he was taken back to the mansion.

On the way he discovered that he was hit by his step sister, Christina's daughter Ava. She was in college in Melbourne and tended to speed up the drive on her way up to the house. His step mother promised she was actually a nice person, and tried to prove it by getting Ava to apologize. It was forced, and the teen new it. She was just mad that he'd broken her pretty new car's windshield. She was even more furious when Rowan declared that she had to pay for the repairs.

He also discovered that he had a half sister named Grace. She was only an infant, but was already clearly several steps higher in his father's heart. It hurt, knowing that a baby that was born only a few months ago was loved more then he was. When they got back to the mansion, Rowan was in his daughter's room with Christina. Grace had been left home with the nanny while they were at the hospital. He wanted to _make up for lost time_. It felt like a slap in the face. 3 hours compared to five years of him being gone…it made him sick….

_End Flashback_

"Were you surprised that your father was remarried?" The woman asked as Chase rolled over onto his side to look at the clock…he still had time to waste. She wasn't going to let him off the hook without talking to her about the marriage would she? He doubted it.

"Yeah…Mom always told me that he was the love of her life. I always had this fantasy that he'd come back one day and remarry her and everything would be okay. Instead he just moved on." He placed a hand on his forehead; he didn't like talking about his past. He wouldn't get out of here if he didn't.

"Do you like your Stepmother?"

"She's alright I guess…"

"What about your sisters?"

"Ava's a real bitch. I haven't talked to her or seen her since a few weeks after she hit me with her car."

"And Grace?"

"I have no qualms with her personally, just with how my father treats us differently. She's actually a really nice girl. Or she was when I last saw her, who knows, maybe's she's affected or something."

_HmdHmdHmdHmdHmdHmdHmdHmdHmdHmdHmdHmdHmdHmdHmdHmdHmdHmd_

Rowan was in the middle of telling his psychologist about the car crash. He was explaining how disoriented his son was, and how his eldest daughter was a wreck after hitting him. The woman listened intently, sipping her tea and taking notes. He eventually stopped and breathed in. His eyes went to the clock. When the hell did this thing end?

"So did Ava and Robert get along?"

"No, not at all. She hated him." Rowan sighed and placed a hand on his forehead. This was taking far too long. He didn't like talking about his son, he actually hated it. He usually did everything in his power to avoid talking about him. It made him feel guilty that he never was a bigger influence on his boy's life…

"Care to elaborate?"

"From what I've heard and seen…" He took a deep breath and then dove back into his story.

_Flashback_

Robert had an album. It was the only thing he kept from his apartment other then clothing and school work. His mother had been a photographer before she was to…sick…to work. She had taken pictures of everything, every part of their life together. It was something Rowan had treasured greatly when he was still married to Annabel, fore it captured moments he was never apart of. In turn after he left, Robert treasured it. For there were pictures there that captured his father in moments that _he _was never apart of.

The album was huge, and contained everything from pictures of his mother when she was feeding him cake, to his father in the study. There were sports pictures and religious pictures. Most importantly however, was that there were pictures of Annabel before she died. Pictures of her as a dancer filtered through the masses. There were images of her as a teenager with her parents. There were pictures of her pregnant with him, and pictures of her wedding. It was an album most cherished for it was all he had left of his mother.

He would come home from school and wordlessly go to his room and look at the portraits with such desire that Rowan wondered if he was obsessed. The child did nothing else except for look at the album. He'd attempted to talk to his son about it of course, but that didn't help at all. Robert was still carrying on his vow of silence. He had been going to a very prestigious Seminary High School at the time, and none of the fathers there were much of a help. They told him to speak when he was ready. Obviously he wasn't ready. After the teen was accepted to college, he received early graduation and left the school. He had lost faith in God. That was only a week ago, now he just stayed up in his room all day long. Waiting to go to Sydney.

Ava was extremely angry. Her car was ruined, and all of her money stemmed from her Stepfather. She couldn't pay for the repairs for she had no job, no money meant no car. No car meant no parties. It was an endless cycle and she was fuming in hate for her little step brother.

Unbeknownst to Rowan at the time, she had taken to bullying his son. When they passed in the hall she would trip him. She would make silly little lies like "dinner's at nine" when it was at seven. She would lock him in his own bedroom for hours at a time; push him down flights of stairs. No one ever saw her do it, and because Robert refused to speak, no one ever knew.

Finally one day she went too far and he snapped. He shoved her back. It was just in time for Rowan to turn the corner and see. He screamed at Robert for over an hour and the teen just listened dumbly and then was sentenced to his room for the rest of the day. There were always little things like that happening around the house. It was insane the amount of times this occurred. Rowan began to think about sending Robert away for the remainder of his senior year. Then suddenly it all stopped. Everything. Robert even started speaking again. Things seemed to be getting fairly normal around the mansion.

He found this out after the fact, but Ava had finally found a way to control her miserably stepbrother. She had gone into his room one day while he was out walking the grounds with the family's dog Mikey. She found his photo album, and stole the negatives. She then took a permanent marker and began writing atrocities on the pictures. Words like "whore" and arrows pointing to his mother. She drew half assed wine bottles and gin, mustaches, big breasts, 'x' marks, and other terrible things all over the album. She returned the book to where he kept it, and took the negatives back to her room.

When Robert came back from his walk, she just waited for him to find the book. It didn't take long, and she positioned herself in the doorway to watch him when he opened it. The teen's eyes widened dramatically and his hands flew across the pages. He turned each one, and with each page a tremor ran through his body. Tears came to his eyes and he wept miserably at the crude drawings done on his beloved photographs. When he saw they'd all been marred he looked up to see his step sister standing there with a look of pure triumph.

"Listen up. I've got your precious little negatives. You're going to go to your father. You're going to tell him that you're sorry for all the trouble you've caused. You're going to say that it was _your _fault that my car is broken. You're going to ask him to pay for the repairs. And if you don't, then your _mother _is going to burn. If you tell _anyone _about this…all of those pictures are on fire, you understand?" Robert was trembling from rage and terror. He didn't know what he wanted more, to attack her, or to listen to her.

He nodded though. He nodded and he left the room without so much as saying a word. He made his way to the foyer, and sat down. He sat down and he waited. His father would be home in a few hours no? He waited all that time staring at the door. When it finally opened, and Rowan stepped in, her threw himself at him.

Robert simply wrapped his arms around him. It startled the doctor to say the least; to have his son hugging him for the first time in years. Rowan had held his son, sure, but Robert never hugged him first. The initial shock eventually wore off and the man hugged his boy back. He asked him what was wrong and he felt the teen shaking his head on his chest. Then quietly, oh so quietly he heard the scratch of a voice and the whisper of words.

"I'm sorry dad." The teen whispered. "Please forgive me?" Rowan wanted to ask for what, but the words didn't form. He wanted to say there was nothing to be forgiven of. He wanted to tell the boy that he was fine. He wanted to say something, but the words never came. "I'm sorry about Ava's car…it was my fault." He whispered. His father hadn't heard his son's voice since that dreadful night that the teen had called and asked for him to come to the hospital. It sounded hoarse and it was clearly unused, but the words were there. He was trying to talk to his father. Rowan could only hug him tighter to his chest as the boy kept speaking. He would give anything to have him continue talking. He remembered late nights when a seven year old Robert would force himself to stay awake so that when Rowan came in to check on him, so he could talk to his father. Robert loved to talk…he loved to speak…and Rowan was addicted to the sound of his son's voice. He wanted nothing more then for his boy to continue speaking and to stop playing dumb. "Can you…fix her car? It was my fault and…I've been so mean to her…and…"

"Yes." Rowan breathed the word. He would do anything at this moment. He wanted to continue holding the teen, but the boy wriggled free. He kept his head down and turned to go back up the stairs. Did the boy know how his heart wrenched when the child walked away from him? Did the boy know that when he said "thank you" and left him there in the foyer, he was hurting him? Rowan had wanted to sit down and talk to his son about everything. He wanted to explain why he hadn't come to the hospital…why it was _his _fault that Annabel had died. He wanted to take his son away and never come back to this place. Simply because of that one moment, he wanted to make up for every other moment that he had lost along the way.

The car was fixed not two days later. Robert spoke every once and a while but he wasn't a ranting maniac. He spoke occasionally at dinner, and seemingly made his peace with Christina. He was even seen playing with his baby sister. Every thing seemed to be going great. That was when the teen went to Ava when she got her car back and asked for his negatives. Ava looked at him for a long time, and then simply said 'no.' He told her she made a deal. She told him she went back on the deal. She wouldn't give them back.

Dinner that night was a fiasco.

Rowan and Christina were sitting at the table heads. Grace was sitting across from Robert, and Ava was sitting next to him. The teen angrily stabbed at his salad and felt his temper rising. It always seemed close to the surface now. He was furious with his sister, and he was furious with his father. He hated this place. He hated living there. He hated the enormity of it all. He hated how after nearly a month, he _still_ hadn't been in all of the rooms in the damn house.

"Robert? Pass the salad down to your mother and sister would you?" Rowan asked suddenly as he lifted the bowl to his son. That was it though. That was the last straw. The teen slammed his fork down on the porcelain plate and threw himself to his feet. He pointed harshly at Christina and yelling didn't come close to how angry he felt.

"That woman is not my _mother_! My _mother _is dead!" He had moved to Ava. "And that whore is not my sister!" Instantly there was mass chaos and screaming. Ava was screaming that Robert repent for what he said, Rowan was screaming Robert was out of line, about Grace starting screaming because she was fussy, and Christina didn't know whether to join into the fray or start crying.

"Enough!" Rowan shouted as Robert and Ava started bickering with each other. They didn't listen to him. They were screaming at the top of their lungs and were only overshadowed by the cries of their baby sister.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that you ungrateful little wretch!" Ava yelled as she attempted to pull herself taller then her stepbrother.

"You're just a fucking spoiled brat! You're a whore and a bitch, and I wish I had died, that way I wouldn't have had to be stuck here with _you!_" Rowan didn't know what happened next, but suddenly Robert was on the ground holding his face and his hand was curled into a fist. He hadn't meant the words that he spoke then. He hadn't….

"I wish you had died to, then you at least I wouldn't have to deal with you, you son of a bitch!" There was silence then. Christina had somehow managed to calm Grace down, but her eyes were pinned on her husband in shock. Ava was attempting to not snicker as she saw her stepfather's face morph into complete horror. Robert just lay on the floor, tears sliding from his eyes. It didn't seem like he even noticed them, he just let them fall. His face hurt, but his heart hurt worse. His father had never hit him before…but the words were the worst of all. "Get out of her…" Rowan whispered as he trembled in shock. "Go look at your pictures; just get out of here…" He couldn't look at his son right now. He couldn't register what just happened.

"I can't." Robert whispered. Rowan forced himself to look at the boy.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because your daughter destroyed them." Ava's face inflated with rage and she attempted to speak but Rowan glared her into silence.

"Go get your damn album." Robert flew from the room and up the stairs. He reappeared not a minute later and held it out to his father without looking at him. The man raised his hand to take it, and the teen actually _flinched_! When the book was opened, Rowan stared at the photos in complete shock. He looked at his son with anger. "Why would you do this?"

"I didn't." The boy whispered back, still not making eye contact. "She did." He motioned towards Ava. "She took the negatives and wouldn't give them back until I asked you to fix her car." Rowan felt as though his heart had been stabbed. His son hadn't hugged him back then because he wanted to…he had done it so he could get his mother back. He felt betrayed somehow by this confession. "She still won't give them back." Robert moved and leaned against the wall. He was out of arm's reach there…

"Ava. Get his negatives. If they're damaged in anyway, if there's _one _missing, there will be severe consequences." She glared angrily and then ran off to do as he bid. She came back a few minutes later with the very large collection of negatives. She slammed them into Robert's chest, driving the wind out of him and causing him to hiss in pain as his collarbone injury was nudged painfully. "Don't touch him!" Rowan roared.

"You have no room to talk, you punched him!" Ava shouted back.

"Be quiet all of you!" Christina screamed for the first time that night. Everyone looked at her dumbstruck. Grace was sleeping in her arms and the mother was getting extremely annoyed with all of the atrocities occurring. "Rowan: Apologize to your son, Ava: apologize to your brother, and _all of you_ apologize to Grace. She's trying to get some rest!" When the deeds were done, she continues. "Ava, pack your bags. Break ends tomorrow. I want you going to your school and staying there until further notice. You are not welcome in this house if you are going to treat your siblings in such a fashion."

"He's not my-"

"Be silent!" Ava snapped her mouth shut. "I don't care if you think he's the biggest wart on a hog; you will not treat him with disrespect. Rowan has been kind enough to welcome you into _his _heart. You should be good enough to do the same for his son! Do you understand?!" Ava was literally glowing with anger, but she mumbled a 'yes mom.' "Now go!" She did as she was commanded, but none to happily. Christina turned her attention to the Chase duo and was frowning at her husband. "I don't care what problems you have with that boy, but you will not use physical violence to calm him or anyone else in this house, do _you _understand?" Rowan affirmed and apologized again to his son. Robert didn't listen to him; he was staring at his stepmother in awe. She looked at her stepson and smiled lightly. "I'm sorry that my daughter behaved in such a fashion. Before she leaves I'll make sure she gives you the money to restore your photographs. Please forgive her, she's young and foolhardy." Robert didn't say a word. He walked up to his stepmother, wrapped his arms around her and hugged her gently. Rowan could only watched; knowing that he didn't deserve that type of affection anymore. The youngest Chase then kissed the forehead of his baby sister.

_End Flashback_

"I'm a terrible father." Rowan sighed and placed his hand on his face. "To all of my children."

"You said that you tried your hardest to be there for Grace is that right?"

"Yes, but I divorced Christina too. It was the same thing that happened with Annabel, only Christina isn't an alcoholic…"

"When did you divorce your wife?"

"Three years ago. I was remarried this year to Brittney Marcos. She doesn't know about Robert…but she has met Grace."

"Do you keep in touch with Grace?"

"Yes, I try to. I see her every weekend."

"Does she know about your cancer?"

"Yes…but I don't know if she understands. She's only seven."

"It's surprising what children understand."

"I suppose it is…"

"Have you thought of your Will? What you're going to leave behind for your children and wives?"

"I'm giving everything to Brittney. Grace is going to get the Mansion when she's 18, but Brittney will have my fortune."

"What about Robert?"

"What _about_ Robert?"

"Are you leaving him anything?" Rowan sighed and rubbed his face again. He honestly hadn't thought of it. Though the more he contemplated the more he was assured of his answer.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I was a terrible father to him. If I leave him with a fortune, he will not remember the days we did have together. The good or the bad…he will only remember the money I left him. No, it's better this way. Besides how can I leave a fortune to a stranger of my heart?"

Windstar: The same theory applies. I may or may not continue, so far it's basically done. I'm ending each chapter as close noted as I possibly can. If someone asks for me to continue, I'll try. Thank you, quack675 I hope you enjoyed this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Verse 3**

"We only have a little time left." The woman said as she looked at her clock. "Tell me more about your sister, Grace."

"I really do like her. She's a wonderful kid, but again I haven't seen her since I graduated…so I wouldn't know what she's like now."

_Flashback_

God, Summa Cum Laude…he couldn't believe it. He'd spent the past four years in med school working as hard as he possibly could, and now he was valedictorian…and had Summa Cum Laude….He was staring at his diploma after the ceremony. The people shuffled out past him. Graduates were hugging their parents, and everyone was running around happily. Several students came up to him and told him how his speech touched them.

Parents came over to shake his hand and wished him well on his journey. He received business cards and job offers on the spot. He smiled and made polite chit chat. He didn't like being rude, even though he wanted nothing more then to find Jennifer and see if she wanted to go out to eat with him before she left for Europe.

Jennifer, the Salutatorian, had been his girlfriend for the past three years. She too had received a Summa Cum Laude. They had spent hours studying together in the huge library. Hours each night devoted to their work. Once a week they took a break and had a fancy dinner somewhere in town, where they had a ban on discussing school work. She had gotten an invitation to do her residency in Europe, and her plane was set to leave the next day. He would have gone with her had he not already accepted a residency offer in the United States. His plane left tomorrow as well – there was no time for one more day of fun together.

He wanted to take her out and give her a wonderful evening before they left. He had thought about proposing to her, but decided that he wasn't going to get married. They were going to live on different continents, and after seeing his own parent's marriage falling apart, he didn't believe that he should even try to follow through with it. Besides there would be no love lost when the other had to leave…there would be no law suit if the other got a job across the world that didn't include a partner…there would be no hassle. No, dating was much better, especially for now.

He was busy looking for her when someone ran up to him and caught him by the back of his gown. He turned and stared at this little nymph smiling up at him. She was at least five years old and had curly blonde hair with big blue eyes. She was wearing a pretty little white dress with dark pink flowers on it. In her hand was a tiny wrapped item.

"Hey there, did you lose your mommy?" He asked bending down to be at her level. The little girl kept smiling at him. She looked both ways and then leaned in with a giggle as though to tell him a secret.

"You're my big brother!" She said quietly. Chase drew back a little bit and got a better look at her. There were some distinct resemblances, even if they did only share a father. He smiled at her, and took one of her hands in his. He then spun her around and caught her in his arms. He picked the little girl up and then searched the crowds for Christina and his father. He didn't see either of them. Surely the hadn't let a four year old come to his graduation unattended. "I have a present for you!" He looked at the badly wrapped item in her paw and indulged her.

"Oh do you?" He found it odd to say the least. The last time he had seen her was before he'd left for college. She couldn't possibly have remembered him, so why would she get him a present? It must have been Christina's idea – she was funny like that.

"I made it myself!" She pressed it into his palm after he managed to balance her on one arm. He quickly readjusted his hold on her after he received the present.

"All by yourself?"

"Mommy helped." She replied sheepishly as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Where is your mommy, do you know?"

"She said by the big tree." Chase looked at all of the big trees on campus and sighed in annoyance. It would take a lifetime to find Christina with all of the graduates and parents everywhere.

"Which one?"

"The one with the pretty girl next to it." Grace whispered as he started slinking his way through the crowd. He frowned and tried to remember if there were any female statues on campus.

"What pretty girl?"

"The one in jammies!" The child replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Jammies?"

"Like you!"

"Oh, in a cap and gown?" He supposed to the eyes of a child it would appear to be night clothes.

"She's pretty. She said she knew mommy from a picture!" Realization dawned on him. Jennifer must have seen Christina and they'd started talking. Then the young doctor must have seen Robert leaving the ceremony and pointed him out. Grace took off after him and was supposed to bring him back. He was surprised that Christina let her baby run off by herself like that. It only meant that they were in eye sight.

Robert turned around and spotted his lovely girlfriend and his stepmother by, true to Grace's description, a big tree. He made his way over to them and placed his half-sister on the grass beside him. He kissed his girlfriend lovingly, and then hugged his stepmother. They had kept in touch over the years. She would call him and ask him how he was doing and tell him about the amazing thing her baby had done that day. Robert listened to her without complaint and even enjoyed their conversations.

The woman was trying hard to make an impact on his life (so far she had succeeded.) She's the one who sent him the picture of a two year old Grace, herself, and his father. It had made his Christmas when he entered his Mother's farm house and saw a beautiful pine tree adorned with lights and a little manger set up beside the tree. There were presents from Christina there, and she had somehow gotten a hold of his college friends and they had sent their presents to him. There was a note on the door that read "Sorry for breaking in, but I didn't think you'd mind." He called her up that day and told her how wonderful she was. He finished his praising call by dubbing her "mommy2." It was a bit longer then "mom" but it made the woman swell with joy.

"Thank you for coming Chrissie." He said fondly as he released her from his bear hug. The woman was beaming at him.

"Your speech was completely fantastic Robert. You inherited Rowan's power of speech-" Robert suppressed his groan at the comparison. "-and you put your father to shame." He laughed at that. Jennifer's arms wrapped around his waist and he absentmindedly placed an arm around her shoulder. "I'm so proud of you baby." She placed a hand on his cheek and he blushed slightly. The woman was determined to treat him as her own child, and those were exactly the words he'd imagined his real mother telling him on his graduation day.

"So this is Gracie?" He looked down at the little leg hugger and smiled. She was very sweet looking. She had seemingly grown up without being affected by her sister's anger or hatefulness.

"It is." Christina said as she placed her daughter in her arms. The little girl was glowing.

"Open your pressie!" The four year old commanded, and instantly Robert's attention was drawn back to the badly wrapped item. He took his time in taking the tape off – adamant in not ripping the paper. Grace was telling him to hurry up, and he just smiled and went slower. Finally he opened it and into his hand spilled a necklace with a wooden charm. He looked at it carefully, his hands running over the little marks that were made from a knife. He knew that Christina must have held the knife while Grace told her what to do. There was no way on earth that Chrissie would allow her daughter to go anywhere near a knife sharp enough to do this. It was a hunk of junk on sight – but the fact that it was his and that his baby sister had done it for him made him teary eyed. He thanked them for it from the bottom of his heart.

They came with him on his "romantic dinner" with Jennifer. They went to a pizza parlor instead of a 5 Star Restaurant, but he didn't care. He was with a wonderful woman, with a beautiful sister, and a charming girlfriend. Even if this was a day for saying goodbye, it wasn't sad.

Grace asked him if they'd see each other again and Chase promised that he would visit as often as he could. She wanted to see him off to the airport, but the flight was far too early in the morning for a four year old to be saying goodbyes. They hugged each other and she kissed him on the cheek before running off to be with her mother. He was going to miss the little scrap of life.

He turned back to Jennifer, and they kissed and talked a bit longer before she too left. He drove home to his Mother's Farm and sighed in contentment as he opened the front door and walked inside. His father's threat was completely empty now. This house was his by right from now on. He walked up the stairs and into his room, and he lay down on his bed. His clock was set for three in the morning. He had five hours of sleep to get through before he took his steps to America.

_End Flashback_

"Well…after hearing what you've told me…I have a few questions about your present." The woman said as she started to close his file. Chase pushed himself into a sitting position. All this talking about Grace and his past was making him hungry for a good slice of pizza. "Do you have a problem with death? When someone dies, are you strongly affected?"

"No ma'am. I don't like it, but if a patient dies on me then I won't get completely emotional." He replied

"How has it been, working for Dr. House?"

"He's a good doctor. He has creative ideas and I'm learning a lot of methods studying under him." Chase didn't add that such methods included breaking and entering, running from police cars when he's about to be caught, engaging in illegal activities, and all around sneakery. He figured that would put a bad mark on his record.

"Are you enjoying working at the hospital?"

"Yes ma'am. I think it's the best job I've had so far. I enjoy the staff and the hours."

"Do you like it here in America so far?"

"Yes ma'am. Although, I still have to remind myself that you drive on the_ right _not the left when I get into my car." He smiled and the woman smiled back.

"Well, after what I've heard, I don't believe there's anything keeping you from continuing to work at PPTH. I'll make a not in your file that you've been here and that there's nothing to worry about." She did so, and then handed the file back to him. Robert stood and shook he hand, took his file, and left. As he closed the door behind him he turned on his cell phone and started walking out of the building. When he got out on the street he dialed a memorized number and smiled when he heard the voice on the other end.

"Hey…It's Robert…yeah yeah, I'm fine. I'm doing well, and you? I just wanted to call and say…I love you mom."

_Several Months Later_

"Secret club, what's the secret, they're all morons?" House asked as he went to get a refill on his coffee.

"He fell on something in the attic, scraped his arm, got the rash the next day." Chase was busy pulling on his jacket as he told House what Gabe informed him of. "He said it smelt _really _moldy up there."

"Fungal pneumonia without the cave…clever." Chase suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and continued telling his boss his plan of action.

"I'm gonna get a sample." He turned and stopped short, his heart literally skipping a beat as he stared at the man in the doorway. His eyes grew a few millimeters and he felt his breath coming short. It was his dad…he was standing there proud and tall. He just stood there as though this was a natural occurrence. Robert forced himself to stay still as he waited for his father to make the first move. He wanted out. He wanted to bolt, but then there was House. How would he explain simply running away now that he made it so blatantly obvious that he knew this man? Maybe he was just being paranoid. Maybe he could still walk out. Would his father stop him? Would there be a scene? His fight or flight system was in overdrive. He still had time to leave right –

"Dr. Chase." No. He'd been acknowledged. He'd have to stay now. "You have a few moments?" Robert felt himself replying, it wasn't exactly rude…but in now way was it polite. He moved past his father without another glance. His head was tucked down and he was power walking to the stairs. If he had gone for the elevator then there was a chance Rowan would have caught up with him – offered to go down with him. He didn't want to talk to his father…he didn't want anything to do with his father.

Rowan stared after him, his heart twingeing as his boy disappeared around the corner. He hadn't seen him since his graduation…even if the boy hadn't seen _him_ there. He hadn't told Christina he was going. She had brow beaten him to go for months. He told her to go without him, and she had. He had watched as his son interacted with the lovely Jennifer and as he saw his baby sister for the first time since he moved out.

"These young doctors, it's like they don't care about people." Rowan turned to look at the man. So this was the bastard he'd talked to on the phone all those years ago? He had a cane…his hair was a mess…he wore a business jacket but it was rumpled and over an even mangier striped shirt and some rock band T underneath. He was wearing _jeans _to an office! The very thought was infuriating. "No manners." Was that a slight at Rowan for not introducing himself? The Rheumatologist huffed internally.

"My fault probably." He replied. He glanced back at where his son had disappeared. What were the chances that he could cut him off before the elevator came – did he take an elevator?

"That's an interesting accent you have there." Rowan sighed. It seemed not. This twerp wasn't going to let him go was he? He turned and looked at the man again. "I'd say…Czech with 30 years of Aussie." The older man wondered if that was memorized off a file, and the diagnostician was just messing with him.

"You have quite an ear." The man was smirking now. He looked back at the door getting ready to leave. He was done indulging this man.

"You're Chase's dad." Rowan looked back at House. He wanted to show how annoyed he was, but then he noticed that House definitely remembered him. The man was snickering almost. "Hard to miss you know, with the big hug and how happy he was to see you." He took a sip of his coffee and Rowan glowered in anger. He felt his fists clench as he looked at the man.

"It's not your concern." He shot at the little limping figure of a man. House smirked and placed his cup down.

"Why don't you stay and participate in the differential while you're here?" With that the man limped past him and down the hall. Rowan sighed and looked at the room. This was where his son worked. He had just finished talking with Dr. Wilson…he had only a few more months left…He was told that he should tell his son…still he had no intention of doing so.

A few hours later, Chase Jr. was leaning against a table in the lab. He was talking to Foreman about the sample he'd taken. Cameron was holding up a glass box that had the sample in it and he was doing his job. All thoughts of this morning had passed. He'd imagined that Rowan had just left after he had, and that his father wasn't going to bother him any more. That didn't mean House wouldn't. The man started laughing at nothing, and when his three underlings turned to him, he smirked at Chase.

"Sorry, I forgot how funny your dad was." He was looking at him intently and Chase felt his anger rise. This was none of House's business.

"Not as funny as you." He was angry. He wasn't going to let it show. House rolled his eyes and got to his feet.

"High praise – I know how protective kids can be of their parents." So it went. All day long House continued to make cracks about Robert's relationship with his father. He thought he'd managed to escape his father's shadow, and that maybe this was all going to die down, but that was before House mentioned that Rowan was going to be working with them.

Robert felt himself getting increasingly angry. His temper was always close to the surface. The differential turned into a spitting match on who can shoot the farthest. He constantly felt the urge to punch a wall or to destroy something. He wanted to go on a run and not come back until his father was five thousand miles away with his _other _family.

Rowan shot him down worse then House did and eventually Robert admitted defeat. He decided to avoid them at every cost. He rescheduled his clinic duty after House rescheduled it. He made snide comments from a patient's bedside. He was taking extended lunch breaks, and going in for imaginary consults. He just needed to be _away _from his father. Finally Robert was doing everything in his power to prove Rowan wrong. He wanted his father out of his life, and the only way to do that it seemed, was to get him to shut up. House wouldn't let it down though. He kept pressuring him and pressuring him to talk to Rowan.

"Your relationship with your dad is messing with your ability to do your job."

"Only because you _made _my dad part of my job." Robert hissed back. This was none of House's business. He had no right to force him and his father to interact.

"Good point." House allowed though he wasn't finished yet. "You haven't seen him in years, he flies across the Atlantic-"

"Pacific." Robert interrupted, House talked over him.

"to see you. You breeze by him like he's a Hare Krishna at the airport, you don't even ask why he's in town."

"It's probably a conference." Robert jumped at the chance to fly up a flight of stares. House would be stuck on the ground floor without being able to weedle into his brain anymore. He was hurting, and House was rubbing salt in his wounds. They had almost healed. He had almost felt alright again about his relationship with his father. And then all of this crap had to happen.

"Probably. I was hoping to do this through sheer manipulation, but if you insist on talking, fine. Talk." House motioned for his youngest to speak, but Chase wanted nothing to do with the manipulative bastard. He looked up the stairs to see if there was a way he could leave without seeming suspicious. "What did he do to you?" It was almost caring of House. Robert almost felt as though the man actually wanted to know so that he could help him. Almost.

"How would you feel if I interfered in _your _personal life?"

"I'd hate it – that's why I cleverly _have _no personal life." Robert glowered. He made an excuse, and then left. He didn't even want to think about talking to House. Especially not about his father. Hours later after proving his father wrong _again _the insufferable rheumatologist pulled rank on him! The elderly doctor simply said that his son was wrong because he was arguing with him about it. It killed any shred of resolve that the twenty six year old had.

"Why are you here?" Rowan's eyes slipped closed. He didn't want to talk to his son about this. He wanted nothing to do with his son and this topic. He simply lied.

_I came to life in the usual way,_

_Wasn't my choice, what more can I say?_

_Nothing's gone right, since I took my first breath,  
It seems I'm the greatest disappointment you ever met._

"SLE Conference." Robert's heart cracked as his father said that. There was a small shred of hope that it was because of him. A small tiny almost inaudible voice in his ear telling him 'he's here for you Robert.' It was muffled, and he moved on. He was used to his disappointment. He was used to his father ignoring him.

_You know that's not true, you foolish boy,_

_You are my son, and you brought me joy,_

_If we've become estranged, why is that my fault?_

_Have you learned nothing at all, of the life I've wrought? _

"You were in New York last year for the scleroderma conference. I didn't hear anything from you." Rowan moved forward. What was it fathers were supposed to do now? Hug their wounded child?

_You know I'm here, and I struggle each day,_

_To save lives and keep death at bay,_

_You never write, or offer love, _

_Why can't you care, dear god above!_

"Just wanted to say hi this time." Robert glared at him, his arms crossed across his chest defensively.

_I have my cares and my burdens too,_

_And Earth does not revolves about you,_

_You are a man, not a snivelling babe,_

_I have a job and patients to save._

"You said it. You're still here." Rowan tried a different tactic.

_I wish your job, and your patients, well._

_You yourself I consign to hell!_

_I cannot be the son you clearly want,_

_I cannot be some…sycophant._

"I miss you." He eyes found his son. Before him wasn't a twenty six year old doctor, but a sixteen year old boy who only hugged him because he wanted his mother back. The defensive walls that were always around him seemed to destroy any attempt to saying how much he cared about his boy. Yet he knew that this twenty six year old teenager had grown away from him. He had pushed _him _away from him. Robert had given up on his father…just as Rowan had given up on his son.

_Where did it go wrong, I wish I knew?_

_I wanted you so, that much, at least, is true._

_They all fell apart, all my sweetest dreams,_

_With the sight of your mother and her erratic screams!_

"I was 15 years old when you walked out. Now you're walking back in?" Annabel and Rowan had been divorced since Robert was 10…no that wasn't what he was talking about. He was talking about the crappy fathering that the man had done since then. How when Anna was getting to the edge of her illness, and how she was on the brink of death, Rowan left. No more phone calls. No more money deposits. No more visiting on weekends. No more of anything. He simply had had enough of his divorcee wife and his fucked up son. It was another reason why he didn't go to the hospital the night Robert called him. He just couldn't deal with them anymore.

_I never meant to kill my mother dear._

_She should have survived and lived her life here._

_But I did have a father, and life could have been good._

_But father you rejected me, I just never understood._

"I left your mother. I didn't leave you." Rowan said. He wanted to put a hand on his boy's face and wipe the tears away that were hiding in his eyes. He thought he'd proved that to his son when he asked him to move in with him after Anna's death. No…he remembered…Christina took the boy in. Rowan still never had the time to deal with a broken teenager…he only had time for his still in tact baby and his wife…that was until even they faded away. Then he only had time for his new wife. He found it odd that he filtered through wives and children more then the amount of times his attention was solely on his firstborn.

_It's not too late…we could still try!_

"Mom was living on gin and tonics. How was I supposed to take care of her?" Robert's eyes were nearly leaking as he spoke. He remembered the times well; when his mother was simply drinking herself away. He remembered the night he came home and found her on doors death as clearly as when he watched his father walk out of his life. He had lied to that physiologist. He did think it was his fault his mother died. If he had been just a little bit stronger…something…anything…then she would have lived…she wouldn't have left him all alone.

_Father it's later than you think and you cast the die_

"She wasn't your responsibility."

_You are my son, and my only male child!_

"No." A tear escaped his eyes. "She was yours."

_So why did you then leave me running wild?_

"I'm sorry she died. I'm sorry you had to deal with that. But she was falling apart long before-"

_I want you back, and I want you close_

_You're the child that I loved most_

_I love you, son, and ever will, _

_oh, failure is a bitter pill_

"I've got to talk to House about this treatment." Chase interrupted. He couldn't deal with what was being said. He couldn't deal with this man.

_I love you, too, and always shall, unto the day when I shall die…_

"Robert-" But his son was gone. He was running away again. He had to leave…he truly hated him.

_Say it not sweet child of mine!_

Robert's head was a buzz. He felt tears coming to his eyes and he felt his entire body shaking as he tried to block out the sounds of things around him. He eventually got himself under control and opened the door to House's office. It only made things worse as House ground more salt in his gashes.

"You guys talk? He tell you why he's here?" Chase didn't even look back He just replied and then left.

"The SLE Conference."

_Was I ever in thy heart, thine? _

House wanted to brow beat Rowan has hard as he could. He checked the conference and he was right on his assumption. Rowan was an asshole. He had lied to his son, and his son's heart had shattered. The man was allowed to be an ass to anyone else, but when it interrupted House's busy schedule and tormented his underlings it was crossing the line.

House confronted the man. They shared some…_select _words. In which he was told to mind his own business…even though Rowan informed the doctor that he had every intention of letting his imminent death destroy his son when his boy was caught in the unawares. House never wanted to knock more sense into a doctor in his life. The man literally wanted his son to be completely torn apart over everything. He didn't even want to warn him.

He had decided to tell Robert anyway. He made that blatantly clear when on the next day he told Rowan that he needed to talk to "his boy." Rowan glared at him but left the room anyway. Robert sat down in front of his desk and House sat across from him. He was getting ready to let out the big secret when his youngest talked.

"Why does everybody need to know my business."

"People like talking about people." House replied as he popped back a vicodin. "Makes us feel superior, makes us feel in control, and sometimes, for some people, knowing some things makes them care." House sighed and took a deep breath. He steeled himself up as he got ready to deal with Robert's reaction when he let the bomb drop.

"I tell you my dad left, my mom drank herself to death, you gonna care about me more?" Robert seriously doubted it. He had looked up to House as a father figure of sorts over the time he'd worked for the man, but he doubted that House would ever actually _care _for him. That suited the youngest of the underlings just fine. He was used to people not caring anyway.

"Cameron would. Me, I just like knowing stuff." House looked at him intently and Robert didn't feel disappointed. It was kind of humorous. People had said that Chase had walls…House was just the same. "I know you hate your dad…now I'm gonna tell you something-"

"I don't hate him." House looked up. That was not what he'd expected. "I loved him until I figured out that it hurts a lot less to just not care." Robert sighed and looked away from his boss. "You don't expect him to turn up to your football match, no disappointments. You don't expect a call on your birthday, don't expect to see him for months, no disappointments. You want us to go make up, sink a few beers together, nice family hug? I've given him enough hugs. He's given me enough disappointments."

"Okay." House said. Suddenly the thought that Rowan not telling his boy about him dieing didn't seem to matter anymore. If Robert wasn't going to be disappointed about anything his father did…then House wasn't going to stop something that seemed to work. He sent Robert on his way, and the young doctor sighed.

That night after a rather meaningful conversation with his patient, Chase went to the hotel that his father was staying with. Disappointments be dammed he was going to try one last time to make things right. He went up to the man and saw him getting ready to leave. Then he asked a question and he hoped that the man would be available.

"When's your flight? Got time for a drink?" His heart beat faster as he waited for the answer.

"Wish I did." Screw House. There would always be disappointments. "You going to be getting down to Oz any time soon?"

"Not to long…next autumn…I hope…I'll call you." Robert shifted uneasily. He hadn't known what to do if this happened. "Well…you're all set." Rowan held out his hand and Chase took it. The old doctor just managed to see the silver ring that the intensivist was wearing. It was the last present he'd ever given Robert…when he was fifteen and he was walking out of his son's life. It had the initials "RC" engraved on it. It barely fit the young doctor now, only on his pinky. It made the rheumatologist smile. "I'll see ya." Robert prompted.

"Yeah. I'll see you" There it was…the hug that Rowan always wanted. The one that wasn't prompted by bribe. That wasn't encouraged by anything except hope and determination. Robert wrapped his arms around his father for only three seconds, but it was there. It was a simple yet strong hug that meant the world to Chase Sr. He sighed as Robert pulled back. He ignored the fact the young man was biting back tears. He ignored the fact that he was dying. He ignored the fact that the last thing he ever said to his son was a lie. He ignored it all and got in the car. He left his son standing on the cobblestone and turning to leave. Rowan turned his head slightly and watched Robert disappear behind a corner. He sighed and looked back and accepted his fate.

_I loved you boy, since we first met_

_As to your question, my answer is yes. _

**Windstar: **This is officially the end of this story. I've been formulating a sequel in my mind and I think I have an idea for it. Thank you quack75 for being supportive – you're a wonderful author.

It means a lot to me that people are interested in this.

The poem in this story is not entirely mine. A bloody fantastic author by the name of Eambar wrote the original version of this poem in a Lord of the Rings fic. I took it and "Houseisized" it. This is the original poem from her story "Manchild of the Aldburg." It is Theodred talking to his father Theoden:

**I came to life in the usual way,**

**Wasn't my choice, what more can I say?**

**Nothing's gone right, since I took my first breath,**

**You look at me, and you only see death.**

You know that's not true, you foolish boy,

You are my son, and you brought me joy,

If we've become estranged, why is that my fault?

Have you learned nothing at all, of the life I've wrought?

**You know I'm here, and I struggle each day,**

**To keep the peace; drive the enemy away,**

**You never write, or offer love, **

**Why can't you care, dear gods above!**

I have my cares and my burdens too,

And not all Arda revolves about you,

You are a man, not a snivelling babe,

I have a land and a culture to save.

**I wish your land, and your culture, well.**

**You yourself I consign to hell!**

**I cannot be the son you clearly want,**

**I cannot be some…sycophant.**

Where did it go wrong, I wish I knew?

I wanted you so, that much, at least, is true.

They all fell apart, all my sweetest dreams,

With the passing of my lady, and her dying screams!

**I never meant to kill my mother sweet.**

**I never had the chance for her to meet.**

**But I did have a father, and life could have been good.**

**But father you rejected me, I just never understood.**

It's not too late…we could still try

**Father it's later than you think and you cast the die**

You are my son, and my only child

**So why did you then leave me running wild?**

I want you back, and I want you close

**Father this is home now; where I'm loved the most.**

Is this the end, to all my dreams?

**Ask your worm, he holds your schemes.**

I love you, son, and ever will,

oh, failure is a bitter pill

**I love you, too, and always shall,**

**unto the day when I shall fall**

Say it not, sweet child of mine!

**Was I ever in thy heart, thine?**


End file.
